


Keeping him Safe

by theflowercrownedking



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, James is a werewolf, M/M, Pre-Series, The angst is because of James' POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-16
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-12-30 08:20:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12104589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theflowercrownedking/pseuds/theflowercrownedking
Summary: In which James manages to keep his werewolf nature a secret, right up until the moment he has a nightmare and shifts in Thomas' arms.





	Keeping him Safe

**Author's Note:**

> A slight warning: At one point during this James goes through the beginnings of a panic attack but it doesn't last long and it isn't described in too much detail. During this brief bit, he scratches at his chest a little, though not enough to do any damage. This entire 'scene' is only four sentences long, but if it makes you uncomfortable then be careful. 
> 
> no betas we die like men

In all of Thomas’ years of living, he’d never experienced something as glorious as waking up to the man he loved, and who loved him back, cradled to his chest. On the rare mornings in which he awoke before his lieutenant, he loved to stare down and watch, committing each freckle and scar to memory, and taking comfort in the slow heavy breathing of his lover.

Usually, Thomas’ heart would fill with so much love and adoration that in that moment it seems impossible to withhold himself from waking James up with soft, slow kisses to whatever smooth expanse of freckled skin is closest. Meanwhile if James wakes up first, he immediately tightens his arms around Thomas’ waist and attempts to bury his face further into his chest, as if Thomas were a warm, sentient pillow. This in turn usually wakes up Thomas, who coaxes James out with the promise of kisses.

Thomas isn’t necessarily obsessed with kissing James (though he’ll admit it is something he feels very passionately about), but in the sleep haze that accompanies every morning, catching his lover’s lips with his own seems like a priority.

With this knowledge in mind, Thomas is therefore naturally shocked to find that, despite falling asleep with James in his arms, he has awoken to what feels like a big dog on his chest, staring down at him expectantly. No wait – not a dog, a wolf? A great big wolf with reddish brown fur and startlingly green eyes.

Could this be – “James?”

He isn’t sure what he expected in response to his question, but as the wolf leans forward to lick at his nose, the tension that had filled him when he realised James wasn’t nearby seeps out of him.

Sagging back into the cushions, he reaches up to grasp at the fur around the wolf’s – no around James’ – neck. It was soft, and he found his fingers absentmindedly move to comb through it, stroking as if James really were just a particularly large dog.

Caught off guard by the sudden realisation that – hang on, James is a wolf – he abruptly stops his petting and tries to shuffle into a sitting up position, to get a better look at him. This wasn’t easy, as James is a heavy wolf – and there it was again, James is a wolf – but he manages to move back against the headboard, despite James’ disappointed nudges against his arms and hands.

Apparently wolf James likes his hair being stroked just as much as human James, but he acquiesces and sits back, staring at Thomas with a huff so uncannily similar to James’ that Thomas is certain it really is him.

Thomas hadn’t ever seen a wolf in real life before, but he’d never imagined one could be so big. One paw was easily the size of Thomas’ own hand spread out, and had the creature before him felt like standing on its own hind legs, it would undoubtedly be as tall as Thomas, if not more so. The reddish-brown coat that covered him was soft, and warm, and he wondered if, caught in the sunlight just so, it would turn fiery as his lieutenant’s often did?

He’d heard of werewolves, of course everyone had, but he’d been taught that they were savage beasts that roamed the country sides, or brutes used by pirates to gain an advantage on raids. It was the topic of many a debate at his parlours, arguing whether or not they deserved the same rights as humans and how safe it was to have them among civilised society. He’d never of suspected James of being one, had never heard of wolves that were so well-integrated into society – though perhaps this was of their own design. He’d certainly never heard of the wolf half of these men being so… Cuddly.

Tentatively, Thomas reached out his hand towards the wolf and asked, “James, is that you?”

In response, James makes a strange almost-bark noise and pushes his snout into Thomas’ outstretched palm. Thomas instinctively moves his hand up to scratch behind the wolf’s ear, and he watches James’ tail begin to thump against the soft duvet behind him as the man, or wolf, himself closed his eyes in bliss.

_Oh, Miranda was going to love hearing about this._

 

* * *

 

 

It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for James to sometimes turn in his sleep. Generally speaking, the wolf inside him kept quiet unless it was a full moon, in which case it usually took over entirely.  Sometimes when he was feeling overly emotional, he could feel it rumbling in the back of his mind. During the bar fight with Pickram, it was practically howling with rage, and on the night Thomas first kissed him, he felt his love twofold as the wolf sent waves of adoration towards Thomas.

In times of truly heightened emotions, such as fear or excitement, if James didn’t keep it controlled, the wolf would sometimes take over as if it were a full moon. James usually managed to keep it in check, but he’ll admit that when he felt Thomas’ hand on his cheek that fateful night, it had been a bit of a struggle to keep the wolf from taking over and licking Thomas from head to toe in an embarrassingly overt display of affection. Honestly, James was just glad that he and the wolf agreed on something for once.

Awake, James controls the wolf just fine. The most he allows is a little extra rage and strength in a fight, but asleep he doesn’t have the same sway over his body. When night terrors hit, the wolf takes over and he’ll frequently wake up naked, curled up at the foot of his bed, with the contents of his room in ruins.

After the fifth time he awoke to a nightshirt torn beyond saving, he formed the habit of sleeping naked, much to Thomas’ eventual delight. He also kept most of his valuables locked in wolf-proof chests, after no amount of reprimanding would stop the wolf from enjoying the sensation of ripping his books to shreds.

The first few times Thomas had taken James to bed, he had tried not to stay the night at the Hamilton residence for fear that the wolf would awaken during a night terror, and god forbid attack Thomas in its confusion. But afterwards, in Thomas’ arms, he would often feel so safe and content that he would slip into slumber without fully realising. The first few times he had cursed at his foolishness, but even the wolf had noticed how guarded he felt in Thomas’ embrace, and he began to think it would be impossible for night terrors to ruin such a peaceful state.

Of course, he should have realised how irresponsible he had been to think this.

.

Awakening curled at the foot of Thomas’ luxurious king size bed, James is immediately gripped with panic. He keeps his eyes tightly shut, afraid to see what carnage the wolf had unleashed. He frantically clutches at false hopes, what if he hadn’t actually turned – but no he can feel the familiar ache in his bones – or what if he had returned home last night without remembering  - but no, again, because he has never owned sheets even a quarter as lavish as Thomas’ silk ones and he can feel them against his skin.

Cracking one eye open, slowly, he takes in his surroundings, but nothing in the immediate vicinity seems to be torn to shreds. He lets out a shaky sigh of relief when he also doesn’t spot any blood. Sitting up, he doesn’t see anything that looks broken, but more importantly he doesn’t see Thomas, and the panic grips him once more.

Despite the lack of havoc, he knows that he’s transformed, he can feel it in way the wolf feels smug in the back of his mind. He wraps the duvet around himself, shaking slightly because Thomas _must_ have seen him, must have seen the monster he really was. He’d been doing so well and now Thomas was gone, probably scared off by the beast, and there’s no way he’d want to continue anything now that he knew what he really was. He would be lucky if he still retained his position as Thomas’ advisor. He knew Thomas would never tell the Navy and get him locked up, no doubt he was too good of a man to do that, but there was no way he’d be able to look at him once he knew what James really was.

James claws slightly at the bare skin of his own chest, unable to stop himself from panicking, and each shaky breath seems to be getting harder than the last. He can practically feel the wolf crawling beneath his skin, eager to take control again. But no, that wouldn’t do, James had to calm himself down, the last thing he needs is to show Thomas that he can’t even control himself awake. Gripping the duvet to prevent himself from scratching at this skin any more, he regulates his breathing, a counting technique his grandfather had taught him when he’d first been bitten by a wolf that had roamed too far from Bodmin Moor.

Just as his breathing has begun to resemble a more normal pattern, he hears the door open and in walks Thomas, holding a tray that looks piled high with various breads, jams and fruit. He pulls the duvet round himself a little more, a meagre attempt to shield himself from Thomas’ view, knowing he probably looks a state right now. He always does, after a turn.

“James! You’re awake again!” Thomas’ tone was excited, rather than horrified or angry, but James was still wary. “I was starting to worry, I don’t know what’s healthy for wolves but you were out for a while, I was rather afraid I’d worn you out with all that fetch.”

The… “The fetch?”  Brow furrowing, James looked up at Thomas in confusion. So baffled was he, that he forgot to clutch the duvet so tight around himself, and it loosened to reveal the skin of his chest.

“Yes, we played fetch, don’t you remem–” Thomas stopped abruptly, before hastily setting the tray down and moving closer, “James, are you okay? What happened to your chest?”

Looking down, he saw the angry red marks left behind from when he’d dragged his nails across his chest in his haze of panic earlier. Curse his pale complexion for making the marks stand out.

Thomas was beside him now, reaching his hand out to touch him, but James jerked back. “Am I okay? God, Thomas, how can you be concerned about my welfare, what about _you_?”

He immediately reached out, pushing aside Thomas’ clothing to check for scratches or heaven forbid bites. Cursing himself once more for being foolish enough to stay the night when he knew this was a possibility, he found his shaking hands held still by Thomas’ larger ones. Looking up, into Thomas eyes, he was almost startled by the calm gaze.

“James, love, I’m alright.” James could almost feel himself crumble under the weight of Thomas’ love. God, he could have hurt him. He could have ruined the one good thing he had.

“Thomas, I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have stayed, that it was foolish of me.” Thomas tried to shush him, but he soldiered on, “I’m sorry I put you in danger, I can understand if you want to end things now, knowing what you do.”

He was prepared to say more, let Thomas know he would leave immediately, but before he could say any more he was pulled forward into a fierce hug. “God, James I love you so much, how could you ever think I would end what we have? This beautiful thing we share?”

Reluctantly, he pushed out of Thomas’ embrace so they were face to face. Realising his mistake as their eyes met, he averted his gaze to the floor. “Because now you know the truth. That I’m a monster.” Thomas tried to interrupt again, but he wouldn’t let him. “The wolf – it could have seriously hurt you Thomas. It’s a beast, it knows nothing but ruin.” At this, he finally raised his eyes to Thomas, willing him to see the truth in his words.

But this was the man who saw the good in everything, so of course Thomas was smiling faintly down at him. “James, the first thing you did to me this morning was delicately lick the tip of my nose.” He reached out to cup James’ cheek, but James moved away. Not deterred, he continued, “I have no doubt that at times you can be a ferocious beast, but love, today you were more akin to a puppy.”

James wasn’t too sure he believed Thomas, but the way the wolf was acting in his mind seemed to support what he was saying. It seemed offended that James would even suggest that he’d ever harm Thomas. James couldn’t get past it though; he’d only ever been left with destruction upon waking from nights like this. Thomas must have sensed his hesitancy to believe him, because he reached down to the side of the bed, before picking up what looked like a hairbrush that had seen better days.

“I told you we played fetch. Here,” he handed the brush to James so he could examine it, “it’s the ‘ball’.”

James could see where the wood of the handle had chipped in what looked like bite marks. Thomas reached out to cup James’ cheek once more, and he leaned in without thinking. Had they done something similar earlier? He sometimes got hazy flashes of memories, and he suddenly recollects a warm feeling of being loved for the first time. No, not him being loved, the wolf. He is remembering the first time the wolf had ever been shown affection.

“At first you just wanted to be petted, but then you got a little restless. I’d always wanted a dog as a boy, but apparently wolves love to play fetch just as much.” Thomas lets out a little laugh and James can’t help himself from leaning in and kissing him slowly. He lets his gratitude show as he pulls back.

“The wolf, it has never been calm. It is all my rage, and on nights like these I wake to destruction; a room with claw marks from floor to ceiling. Every time, I fear that the bolt of the door didn’t hold, that it managed to free itself, that someone got hurt.” He looks down in shame, “I have never known this creature to be peaceful.”

“My James, the wolf is not just your rage, but all of you. It is your love, too. I felt it, this morning, the moment our eyes met. And as he is a part of you, I love the wolf too. I fear he has not been shown love before, but he was nothing but eager to show his affection. Just as you were, when we first started this.”

James huffed. How foolish he was, to even think of debating Thomas on matters of the heart. Thomas leant in to kiss him then, and he could feel the wolf in the back of his mind as he reciprocated, how happy it was, how much it loved Thomas too.

“And if you do insist on separating yourself into wolf and man, then I am overjoyed to have the love and protection of not one, but two mighty creatures.” Thomas grinned at him then, and even though James knew that he was being mocked, he was also being told the truth.

“I love you, Thomas,” he said, before allowing a coy smile to take over his face, “but I am still going to need to check you all over, to make sure you’re okay.”

“Why lieutenant, I am honoured you would take such lengths to ensure my safety.” Thomas was already lifting his shirt over his head.

James hummed, before leaning in to kiss Thomas as soon as his head reappeared, letting his hands explore the smooth chest before him, feeling Thomas roaming hands in return.

Just as he was about to trail his hands lower, however, his stomach let out a rather loud growl. Oh yes, he remembered. This was the second part that came after transforming back, the hunger.

He felt Thomas smile into his lips before pulling away, and as much as he wanted to chase after his lips with his own, his stomach let out another painful rumble.

“Yes, I rather expected you to be hungry after this morning. I got the maids to bring us a late breakfast.”

Remembering the tray Thomas had brought in earlier, James sent a quick prayer to whoever was listening to thank them for letting him find such a kind, understanding, and _smart_ man. Giving Thomas a quick peck on the cheek for being so thoughtful, he got up to retrieve the tray, snacking on a slice of apple on his return.

Admittedly, he had envisioned things going a lot darker when he’d thought of Thomas finding out. He certainly hadn’t pictured them both lazing on Thomas’ bedspread together, barely clothed and feeding each other breakfast, laughing because “No, Thomas, you can’t take me out for walks with Miranda to show me off.”

And if that was the first time he had ever referred to the wolf as himself and not a separate entity, well of course Thomas had a part in it in some way.

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo this was a scenario I thought up and it was originally 90% fluff, but man... James is one angsty fella. I have a bunch of other scenarios in my head, so this might become a series, with various one-shots describing different points in James' life. Can you imagine Flint trying to keep his wolf cool in the series? Canon Flint needed a spa day as it was, never mind the same scenarios with an angry wolf taking up half his head...
> 
> Also, Fun Fact: the word document I wrote this in is titled 'Thomas is not a furry'
> 
> Lemme know if I made any mistakes, I wrote this in like 4 hours with no real breaks so I expect some. If you fancy it, let me know if there's any scenarios you think would be interesting for werewolf flint to deal with? I haven't taken from any specific werewolf lore but if you guys find any aspects you think could be interesting I'd be happy to add stuff in.


End file.
